Red and hot!

Last night I wasn’t feeling so hot (of course I was hot, I just wasn’t feeling that way), so I pulled out all five of my frying pans: which can only mean one thing. Mexican!

Well, my experimental, chicken-stock-softened, supermarket-bought, fried white corn tortillas were a disaster. I will hide them in my lunch box, and eat them hurriedly with my shoulders hunched at work tomorrow.

My Mexican rice, however, was three things. Red, hot, and red-hot!

Today, to console myself for tortilla failure, I lobbed into the Mexico City factory at Mortdale. All their sales dudes were out on delivery (I should have phoned ahead, but I am sooo impetuous), so I high-tailed it back to the inner west where Essential Ingredient has returned from its quixotic relocation to the North Shore, and sells Fireworks corn tortillas for $3.65 for a packet of 12. I am waiting on an email reply from Mexico City to see if they have retail distributers about the place too. If so, I shall post.

I was ravenous by the time I returned home, whereupon fresh tortillas and last night’s Mexican rice, reunited me with my hotness!

Recipe: Mexican rice

Red, hot, rice

This is the too-often overlooked staple of Mexican food. It is delicious and satisfying as a main meal; it can step back and let pulled pork or BBQ chicken pieces take the main credits; it works splendidly cold as a salad; it keeps well in the fridge or freezer. Am I getting through?

This version is spicy, with green and red chillies from my courtyard garden. Cooking for children, I use a half red capsicum, finely chopped, and add a pinch of paprika. My youngest son fully loves red capsicum, and my oldest fully doesn’t.

I find the capsicum is cooked in nicely, hidden in plain sight, and we’re all happy!

Ingredients

• 1.5 cups long grain rice
• 3 tablespoons canola oil
• 1.5 cup all purpose tomato salsa
• 1.5 cup chicken stock
• 3.5 cup water
• 2 cloves garlic, crushed
• 2 red tabasco chillies, sliced
• 2 green tabasco chillies, sliced
• Salt
• Pepper
• Tea towel

Method

This is derived from the glorious Diana Kennedy.

Rice: there is a lot of talk about rinsing rice. I don’t rinse rice. I buy good quality rice (rice is cheap), which should be hard and true. Rinsing is a waste of time and water. Gluey rice is not due to the tiny amounts of starch that might be on the outside of the grain membrane, it is due to breaching the membrane (Diana recommends rinsing, but I lovingly disagree).

Heat oil in a generous, heavy-based frying pan on medium heat.

Golden and good to go!

Add the rice and stir through the oil, cooking until rice is lightly golden (5–10 minutes). Drain off oil.

Add to pan tomato salsa, garlic, chillies, salt and pepper.

Once it comes to a high simmer, drop the temperature down and stir. You need to get the mixture down so that it is almost dry again (about 10 minutes).

Add the water. Now, do not stir, but gently even out the rice so that there is even coverage of rice and water. Put the wooden spoon in the sink; say goodbye to it; its job is done. You will stir no more!

What we are doing now is simmering away the liquid and fluffing up the rice. As the liquid cooks off, we gradually drop down the heat. The simmer stays constant; the heat gradually drops. When the rice starts to lift and separate (like a Berlei Bra) and little volcano holes start to appear across the surface (about 10 minutes), remove the pan from the heat and cover with a cotton tea towel.

To keep the towel from flopping into the rice, tuck the corners under the pan, so you get a very Day of the Dead, drum thing happening! The tea towel draws out the moisture, and really helps fluff out the rice (When it comes to tea towels, Diana and I are as one).

And there it is, neither stodgy nor oily; full of flavours both subtle and strong; lunch and re-brand friendly; you can add peas and carrots, mussels and chorizo. Go crazy. Mexican rice!